Dazed and Confused
by Steffy811
Summary: Dean is a goodytwoshoes which also makes him Sam's worst nightmare. Can Sam save the day and return to us our snarky, mullet rock loving, junk food eating, demon killer? Read and find out...
1. Chapter 1

hey people! i havent posted a fic in a while and i hope you like this one. i have been working on it for some time and figured its now or never to post it.

Disclaimer: i dont own anything to do with supernatural, it's plot, characters, or awesomeness...no matter how much i've begged.

As always enjoy and remember comments are welcome!

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"Mr. Murphy?"

He was sitting in the waiting room with his head in his hands.

"Excuse me, Mr. Murphy?" She gently touched his shoulder this time. It was only then that he realized that someone was standing next to him, waiting expectantly with a clipboard in hand. He had heard someone speaking but it seemed so far away at the time. Looking up finally at the person who was demanding his attention he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the hospital waiting room.

"How is he, doc?," he asked. "Can I see him?"

"Your brother is in very critical condition. Unfortunately, we won't know the full extent of his injuries until he wakes up."

This wasn't the first time he'd heard this. It was actually starting to get old.

"You may see him if you'd like. Though I must warn you, he's not in very good shape."

"No, I want to see him," he assured the doctor.

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The doctor lead him down the hall and into the room where his brother lay, seeming to sleep peacefully. He nodded to the doctor, signaling it was okay to go and that he wanted to be alone with his unconscious brother. He closed the door and crossed the room. His older brother, who normally was strong and in control looked so small and helpless laying on the bed, with tubes and machines jutting out everywhere around him. A large bandage covered most of his head. In the middle was a spot where some blood had seeped through.

Suddenly, he could see the events he had been trying to push to the back of his mind. There had been so much blood. It still covered the front of his shirt and pants. Pulling the chair in the corner closer to the bed he perched himself on top of it. He closed his eyes again trying to suppress the memory once more and his fatigue started to set in again. When he had found his brother he had carried him all the way to the car and from the car into the hospital. He did his best to clear his mind and after a few minutes he let exhaustion take over and fell asleep.

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'Where am I?,' he thought. He was surrounded by blackness. It was like he had been swallowed. He struggled to open his eyes and was confused because he couldn't. After a few tries he was able to see through the slits. Then, gradually those slits got bigger and he looked around. It was dark but not as dark as before. There was some light coming from under the door across the room and from the machines that surrounded him.

'What happened?,' he thought. It hurt to think. And come to think of it, everything hurt. Especially his head. He hesitantly lifted his arm and touched his hand to his head. A bandage. 'Now where did that come from? On second thought, never mind, I'll figure that one out later.' Right now it was an effort just to keep his eyes open. He fought the sleep that was creeping to the edges of his eyelids until finally he surrendered his consciousness to the slumber that beckoned him.

When he opened his eyes again it was lighter in the room. He felt better. Suddenly, he heard a noise that startled him. Ever so slightly he lifted his head up off the pillow so as not to jar anything that aught not be jarred. Turning his head to the right towards the noises source, he was startled to see someone sitting there. Sleeping. The noise he'd heard had been a snore, he deduced. The man seated, no slumped rather, next to him was wearing entirely too many layers that were stained by something dark and was in desperate need of a haircut.

It made him jump when the man began to stir and then he suddenly opened his eyes. After rubbing them a few times with the backs of his hands he focused on the man lying in the bed.

"Thank God you're awake, dude," the seated man said, relieved. His look of relief vanished and was replaced by one of confusion when his brother looked at him as though he'd never seen him before in his life.

"Dude, Dean, are you okay?"

"Dean?," the man on the bed asked to thin air. He looked around the room. The name sounded vaguely familiar but he wasn't sure it was his name. His name was- 'Wait what is my name?," he thought. 'And how did I get here in the first place? And who in the heck is this guy?" He turned his gaze back over to the man next to him. His brow furrowed.

"Dean, what's wrong, bro? It's me, Sam."

'Sam…Sam,' he turned the name over and over in his head, mouthing it to himself. 'Nope, no Sams,' he thought.

Sam realized his own brother didn't recognize him. Something was definitely not right.

"You don't remember, do you? Last night? How you got here?…Me?"

"No, I don't…What did you say your name was again?," he asked.

"It's Sam. But you usually call me Sammy. I hate it but you do it anyway." he replied, running his fingers through his hair until he reached the back of his neck. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands were clenched together at the back of his head. He stared at the ground not able to believe what was happening.

"I call you Sammy, even though you hate it?" He said the words slowly trying to comprehend why anyone would do such a thing. Something sparked in the back of his mind but didn't quite ignite.

"Yeah, you think it's funny. It's what I used to go by when we were kids."

"We've known each other that long?"

Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled very slowly. He really wasn't prepared for any of this.

"Yeah,….we're brothers," he said, his eyes locked with Dean's.

"Oh," he paused looking down, then continued, "so, are you my older brother?"

"No," Sam smiled. "I'm your little brother. We're four years apart." He had the distinct feeling, knowing Dean even though he wasn't all there, that he was going to regret telling him the truth on that little tidbit of information.

Sam also knew that he should probably call a doctor or nurse in here but he deep down he didn't want to admit to the fact that something was wrong. That his brother wasn't here. 'How am I going to explain all of this? About what happened last night, and hunting, and the fact that Dad is MIA? He's going to think I'm crazy,' Sam thought. He was going to have to be careful. Dean might try to get away if he sees all the weapons or anything suspicious. Sam was going to have to find some proof to explain all of this. Or he could lie. 'We'll cross that bridge when we get there,' he thought. 'We need a diagnosis first.'

"Listen, I'll be right back. I'm going to find your doctor and tell him you're awake."

"K," Dean said with a smile.

'This is weird,' Sam said himself. 'Normally Dean would be climbing the walls ready to make a break for the door. And he definitely wouldn't be complacent to seeing the doctor.' Sam stood and headed for the door.

"Whoa!," Dean exclaimed from behind him.

"What? What's the matter?," Sam said facing him. He was clearly concerned and confused by the amazed look on Dean's face.

"Dang, you're tall!"

Sam looked down and then back up at Dean. "Uhhh, yeah, I guess I am," he replied. "Be right back." Sam turned on his heel and went out the door. 'Dang?…. It's going to be a long day,' he sighed to himself.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

"Well Mr. Murphy, you have a pretty severe concussion and amnesia. Other than that everything else is fine," the doctor told them after a long series of tests. "We are going to keep you here over the next few days for observation then you can continue recovery as an outpatient."

"Will my memory come back, doctor?"

"There is no way to tell when your memory will come back if at all. In some cases the patient's memory comes back partially and sometimes they make a full recovery. There are some things you can do to help jar your memory."

"Like what?," the brothers asked in unison.

"Well, Sam you can tell Dean about his past, show him things that are familiar to him. Do some of the activities that he has always done, keep him on his regular routine," the doctor replied. "This is going to take some effort on both of your parts. You're going to have to repeat a lot of things with him, Sam. His short term memory has been effected also. But with time I'm confident that Dean can make a full recovery."

'Keep him on his routine? Do activities he's always done?…I'm not so sure demons and ghosts are going to go over well for a man who uses the would 'dang' and who is also baffled by height,' Sam thought to himself.

Sam took his seat next to the bed as the doctor left the room. He watched his brother contently flipping channels on the mini TV over his bed.

'It's going to be okay, Dean. We'll get through this,' Sam said silently, meant more for himself than for Dean. 'Somehow, we'll get through this.'

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Sam had been spending most of the past few days with Dean at the hospital and his nights back at the motel were split between surfing the web about amnesia and going out to hunt for the thing that caused Dean's injury. Returning from a trip to get coffee from down the hall one day, Sam came into the room to Dean giggling aloud.

"I love this guy!," he said happily. He was watching TV. Daytime TV no less.

"What did you say his name was again?," he asked Sam never tearing his gaze away from the set.

"Who?," Sam asked as he sat down. Then he saw it. A big fluffy laundry basket and- 'oh God not again,' he thought. "Snuggle," he replied rolling his eyes. "You know, you once told me you were going to hunt-," He stopped himself before he finished that statement. Not a good idea.

"Pardon?," Dean asked finally turning to look at Sam since the commercial was over.

"Nothing never mind," Sam said then continued, changing the subject. "Your doctor said you can leave within the next few days."

"Ok,…where are we going again?"

"We are gonna drive out to a friend's house, in Missouri. I figure we can crash there until you get better."

"So, we don't have a house right?," Dean asked scrunching up his face in effort to remember.

"No, we stay in motels or at our friend's places, most of the time," Sam replied. He was trying to stay patient with Dean but this was the 6 time he had answered that question….today. He wished he could just tell him the truth. He'd forget it again in less than 20 minutes anyway. 'Who knows maybe it will be the key to jogging his memory, to bringing Dean back,' Sam mused while Dean turned back to his program. 'It's going to have to wait until Dean gets out of here. Maybe until we get to Bobby's. He'll be able to help figure out what to do.' Sam's train of thought was derailed when Dean broke into hysterics at his newly found favorite show. Sam rolled his eyes when he saw what was so funny. Dorothy just hit Rose over the head with yet another newspaper.

"Hahaha, I love those Golden Women!," Dean exclaimed gasping for air.

"Dean, it's 'The Golden _Girls_ and _Designing_ Women," Sam explained.

"Oh yeah, that's right," he replied turning back to the show on Lifetime.

'Some things never change,' Sam thought. 'I guess he'll be hard headed no matter what.'

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning…

"Wow," Dean said when he spotted her. "She's beautiful. So shiny." He circled his beloved Impala like this was the first time he had ever seen her.

'Good. Maybe this will help his memory,' Sam thought to himself hopefully. 'The Impala is the love of Dean's life after all.'

"This is your car, Dean. Dad gave her to you." Sam had explained some things to him about their father last night. Thankfully his short term memory had improved over the course of the week. At least he wouldn't have to repeat any of this over again. He didn't mention anything about hunting, just that their dad was really into his work. Especially after their mother died in a house fire. Dean was a little broken up after hearing about their mom but decided that he had known about it before so he'd just have to deal with it. Good old Dean.

"This car is a bit of gas guzzler don't you think. It would be more practical to get a smaller car. Maybe a Honda. Or a station wagon, which would have a big back where we can put our stuff. We travel a lot you said, right?"

'Dean? Practical? Since when is Dean practical? Well not unless sleeping with a knife under your pillow or never going far without holy water or rock salt counts. And station wagon? Why not go for the gold and say mini-van?'

"Dean, out of the question. You love this car, dude. You wouldn't trade it for anything in the world." In his mind Sam continued, 'You'd rather see it go off a cliff then trade it for a station wagon.'

"Huh, seems a bit unreasonable," Dean muttered. 'Who loves their car that much?,' Dean wondered.

Sam who had been holding Dean's belongings proceeded to pop the trunk and put them in. He was careful not to let Dean see the lock in the bottom of the trunk where the weapon compartment is. Closing the trunk he removed the keys and the brothers got in. Dean took shotgun while Sam drove.

"Hand me that box down there, would you?"

"Sure." Dean handed Sam the box that was sitting in the floor board of the passenger seat. He lifted the lid and rummaged inside. Finding what he was looking for he held it up for Dean to see.

"Is that a cassette tape?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a smile. If this didn't snap Dean out of it then the task was going to be harder than he even wanted to think about. "This is a cassette of a band you've idolized since you were old enough to know the significance of the phrase "business up front and party in the back."'

"What?," Dean said thoroughly confused.

"You'll see," Sam said as he popped in the tape and started the car. It roared to life and the familiar sound mixed with the first few notes of Led Zeppelin's 'Rock and Roll', although Dean didn't know the name of the song or the band at the time, sparked a hint of recognition. This showed briefly on his face and Sam saw it.

'Every little thing is going to help,' he told himself. He tapped his hands on the steering wheel and sang along tunelessly just as Dean always did.

After three songs Dean let out a long, exasperated sigh. Sam turned the music down. They were cruising down the highway. The sun was high in the sky. There was nothing in front of them but clear blue skies and blacktop road. Dean should be in his glory but clearly he was restless.

"What's up, dude?," Sam said briefly turning to look at him.

"I listen to this stuff…all the time?"

"Yeah, it's classic rock, your favorite music."

"Ha, I'd hardly call this stuff music. It's just noise and the lyrics make no sense." He ejected the tape which switched on the radio. Turning the tuner dial back and forth he stopped when something finally came in clear. It was a today's hits station. A track by some Emo band was playing. Sam was pretty sure he had heard it when he was up at school. They were okay in his opinion but Dean would definitely not approve of them.

"Now this is better," Dean said with a grin. He bobbed his head up and down to the beat.

"Dude, you hate Emo."

"Not anymore," he replied and continued to bob his head. Sam said nothing but continued driving. Whatever kept Dean happy. He planned on taking this slow and introduce him or rather reintroduce him to his old ways gradually.


	4. Chapter 4

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"How much longer will we be driving?"

'For one thing, _you_ haven't been driving at all,' Sam thought to himself.

"Uhhh, I'd say at least another half a day."

Dean groaned. He hated being cooped up in the car. Normally he didn't mind it as long as the music was good and the scenery was decent. But Dean wasn't his normal self.

"Can we stop soon? I'm hungry."

"Yeah sure," Sam replied with a shrug. The sun was beginning to set and they hadn't eaten since their early lunch after checking out of the hospital. Sam was hungry and he had eaten a burger the size of his head with a side of fries. All Dean had eaten was soup and salad claiming that the grease in burgers and fries was bad for your arteries. Not to mention the sodium they contained. He'd also chided Sam for ordering a regular Coke. Caffeine is bad for your heart and the sugar is bad for your teeth. Dean ordered water with lemon.

Sam glanced over at the man sitting beside him in the passenger seat at these recollections.

'Maybe someone swapped the real Dean. Maybe this is some sort of hybrid clone. Or maybe this is like what happened in 'The Stepford Wives' or better yet 'The Faculty'. Some little worm was in Dean's ear. He did drink water at the restaurant…. Or maybe this is his dark double. But wait wouldn't the real Dean be the dark double since this one seems to be a goody-two-shoes. He hadn't uttered one curse word since he awoke after all. Or had a cup of coffee, and he was still perkier than he had ever seen him despite it.' Sam was beginning to get a headache. 'Come on man pull yourself together. Dean sustained a head injury. That's it. No cloning, no pod people. Just your average, everyday amnesia.' His mind flashed to that night. So much blood, he could have died. He's lucky amnesia was all he got.

'What if his memory never fully comes back?,' Sam asked himself. He quickly shook the thought. He wasn't even going to entertain it. Dean is strong and he's going to fight this. Somewhere in there is his brother and he's coming back. He had to. Then it hit him. The real Dean is strong, the strongest person Sam knew in fact and it was because of everything he has been through. The reason Dean must be acting this way is because he has forgotten everything that has happened these past 23 years. That's the reason he is being polite, health conscious, and anti-rock music. 'He doesn't know he has to put on his brave face,' Sam thought. 'He doesn't remember he needs to be the tough guy, the smart-aleck. Because he doesn't remember anything he doesn't know his defenses are down. And until his memory returns, I'm going to have to deal with this strange knew alter-ego.'

Sam's head was really starting to hurt.

Sam was relieved when he spotted a diner on the side of the otherwise empty road. He needed something to distract him from his current thoughts. Food seemed like it would do the trick. And it did for a while. Although Dean did express his concern for Sam's health once again when he ordered a steak and baked potato with sour cream and butter. Sam ignored him and continued to figure out a possible way to cure Dean. Ultimately Sam knew that he would have to get Dean to Bobby's, that is if he didn't kill him first.

The boys finished their meal and once more got in the car and headed off down the highway. Dean fell asleep soon after they were back on the road, aided greatly by a full stomach of baked chicken and a side of mixed vegetables. Sam had almost spit his Coke all over his white paper placemat when Dean had placed his order. His brother, who considers ketchup a vegetable just ordered a side he normally referred to as rabbit food. Sam couldn't believe that Dean hadn't even tried to hit on the hot waitress, either. He had been a complete gentleman, where the real Dean would have given her his best charming smile while making insinuating comments. This madness had to stop.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Sam drove all through the night. He stopped only twice, and that was for more fuel, both for himself and for the car. He was quiet getting out both times and by the grace of God Dean stayed fast asleep. Sam did not need him preaching again about how bad caffeine is and how much gas the car guzzles.

Then, just as Sam's body began to give in to exhaustion despite the empty 34oz coffee cup beside him he spotted the old junk yard that was Bobby's place. He could have whooped aloud into the dawn air. Dean's eyes finally opened when the car turned sharply into Bobby's winding driveway. The car slowed to a stop in front of the house with a grumble of the engine as Sam shut it off. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. After a moment of peering around Dean finally said, "So this is Bobby's?"

"Yup," Sam replied without opening his eyes.

"Huh," Dean stated with an air of disappointment.

The way Sam had described Bobby's had Dean picturing a nice little farmhouse or cozy cabin-esque type place, not shack in the middle of a car graveyard. Sam let out a long sigh. "Well lets go in. I told him we were coming, he's probably waiting for us," he said opening the door.

"Do you think he's up this early?" Dean asked.

"Who Bobby? Yeah I'm sure he's been up a few hours." Bobby was a true hunter. Late to bed, early to rise.

They headed for the front door, not even bothering to get their stuff from the trunk. Sam had his hand up, poised to knock when the door opened a crack and suddenly the boys were looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Dean let out a little yelp, instinctively jumped back and stood behind Sam. Sam glanced behind him and rolled his eyes. "Bobby it's us. Remember I told you we were coming?," Sam asked trying to peer inside.

"Prove it," was the reply that came from the set of eyes that were looking through the crack.

"What do you mean prove it? Dude, it's me. It's Sam. Stop playing around."

"Boy, if you knew me you'd know I don't play. You could be anybody, or any_thing_. Now tell me the three sure fire ways to kill a werewolf."

"Okay," Sam said slowly, glancing back at Dean who was practically cowering behind him. He should have known Bobby would act this way but really who could blame him. Sam just really didn't want Dean to hear about anything to do with hunting. Not yet anyway.

"One is a silver bullet to the heart. Another is to destroy its brain. And the third is to separate its head from its heart." The gun lowered slightly but Bobby still wouldn't let them in.

"How do you detect that someone's been possessed?"

Sam let out a sigh and quickly said, all in one breath, "To detect a demon you can use an EMF detector, splash them with holy water, or if you want to go with something more subtle you could say the Latin word for Christ in their presence."

"Which is?"

"Christo…Oh sulfur is also a good indication," he added as a side note.

The gun lowered almost to the ground as Bobby opened the door a little further, but it still wasn't enough to let them through.

"Boys the last time I saw your father I told him to take good care of you and now look at the mess you've gotten yourselves into."

"Bobby, the last time you saw our dad you threatened to shoot him, had the gun cocked and everything."

With that Bobby threw open the door and let the gun drop to the floor with a clatter.

"Sam! Boy it's good to see you," he exclaimed wrapping Sam in an unexpected bear hug.

"Damn, Bobby what's with the interrogation?," Sam said, his words coming out a bit muffled against Bobby's old red flannel shirt. Bobby finally let him go and took a step back.

"Well you can never be too careful. Something's brewing out there. You can't trust anyone these days." Not that Bobby trusted anyone very easily in the first place.

Sam knew Bobby was right but now he probably had some explaining to do to Dean. 'Speaking of Dean,' Sam thought. Sam turned around and saw that Dean had taken a few cautious steps backward and was looking rather pale.

"Dean, boy, you okay?," Bobby asked, concerned with Dean's current condition.

"Yeah, he's okay," Sam replied.

Bobby turned to Sam. "So he don't remember me?"

"He doesn't even remember the Impala, let alone you and me." Dean not remembering the Impala expressed the extent of Dean's memory loss to Bobby because he too knew of the love Dean had for that car. He had been there the day John had given her to him. He had witnessed the shear joy on the young man's face, the look of utter disbelief.

"Well let's get inside and I'll cook you boys something to eat. Hope you're hungry 'cause Jack with the farm down the road just slaughtered his best pig and brought me down more meat than I can shake a stick at."

"Uhhh, got any tofu?," Sam asked.

"Why, who eats that mess?"

"Long story," Sam replied shutting the front door behind him.

TBC...


End file.
